My Boyfriend Is Invisible!
by SideshowJazz1
Summary: New and improved version of the much-hated "My Best Friend Is Invisible!" In this version, join Samantha "Sammy" Jacobs in her story when an invisible boy suddenly starts hanging out with her, following her around. He wants to be her boyfriend. But he's ruining her life! How can Sammy dump someone - when she can't even see him?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi, everyone! Now, this is not exactly original. I just read the well-hated book, "My Best Friend Is Invisible". And I started thinking how I could improve it. Low and behold, this fic happened!**

 **Plot: Samantha "Sammy" Jacobs is into ghosts and science fiction. Not the smartest hobby, in the opinions of her parents. They're research scientists and want her to be interested in real science.**

 **But now Sammy's met someone who's really unreal. He's hanging around in Sammy's room, eating her food, trashing her room. Sammy can't stand it, and wants to find a way to get rid of her new best guy friend. Only problem is...the guy is hopelessly in love with Sammy! Oh, and he's invisible.**

 **So yes, I am totally ripping off the story. And genderbending Sammy. And making Brent want to be her boyfriend instead of her best friend. And improving it. And changing things around. Still, please enjoy.**

As I sat at the table, I started to wish I was invisible. It would be so much fun.

If I were invisible, I could leave the food I didn't want and no one would know where to find me. Then they couldn't pull me back to finish it. And I could just go back up to my room and finish my new book of ghost stories, preferably somewhere no one would think to look.

It was a great day dream. Samantha Jacobs, invisible girl. But don't EVER call me Samantha – I'm Sammy to everyone.

I saw a movie about someone invisible recently, but it sucked. It showed the food digesting in his stomach when he ate. Excuse me, but the food was inside someone invisible, therefore it was part of the invisible body, therefore it should've been invisible too. Gross. Then again, it was so bad it was funny.

I poked at my string beans with my fork as my parents talked. They're research scientists, and they work in a college lab. And they do stuff with light, then come home and talk about it. And talk. And talk.

Yeah, they think kids don't have something to say? Simon, who's ten, usually has something to say, but it's never that important. But me? I have a lot to say. And instead I have to sit through words that I barely understand.

I prefer science fiction to science. I like aliens, and things like that. But in my family, I might as well be an alien. Or at least from a different country. I mean, honestly, do they think what they say sounds like English?

I tried to get into the conversation. "Hey, Mom? Dad? Did you see the grade on my grammar homework?"

Yeah, that didn't work. Normal stuff never did. Mom and Dad didn't even hear. They were still talking about things that didn't make any sense to me.

I tried more drastic measures. "It seems you haven't noticed that I accidentally kicked down a hornet's nest in the garden and that I've been stung all over."

Nothing! I just wanted them to at least look at me for a moment, just so they'd noticed there was no proof of that (yeah, I was lying). But did they? Of course not.

I was so bored, and I swung my legs under the table. Suddenly, I hit something.

"Ow, quit it!" Simon whined. He glared at me. "Sammy, you did that on purpose!"

I glared at him. "I did not, you little twerp!"

He kicked me back. So what was I supposed to do? Not react? Now that kick was on purpose. But then it was Simon's kick that caused the most damage.

A plateful of spaghetti and a lot of string beans stained my jeans. My favourite jeans.

"Sammy, what did you do?" Oh, finally! My parents noticed.

"Simon kicked me and it caused me to knock my food into my lap." I said.

"I did not! And besides, you started it!" Simon protested.

Mom looked up from her chart. "It doesn't matter who started it. Simon, why don't you help your sister clean up? And then you can mop up the rest of it."

I scowled. "Mom, can't I just get changed? I'll come back and clean up in a minute." I started for the stairs.

"Stop right there, Sammy." Oh no, Dad had caught on. "I know what you're up to. You'll go up there, take forever putting some other jeans on, and by the time you come down, the mess'll be cleaned up. You clean up the spaghetti first, then you finish your dinner. And then you can get changed if you still want to."

"But Dad," I protested, "I can't sit with damp jeans all dinner! Can't I get changed once I clean up?"

At least he let me do that. It wasn't fair, though. Simon never got in trouble, even when it was his fault. It was like he's the good kid and I'm the bad kid, and that's all that matters. Simon isn't perfect. Seriously, I know he isn't. He's just organized. Abnormally organized.

Simon helped me clean up. "You're not normal, you're not normal..." I chanted quietly as I cleaned up. Luckily, he didn't hear, or he would've tattled straight off. Okay, so I blamed him for the spaghetti, but still. Simon was always a tattletale as well as abnormally organized. And he had no sense of humour. I could tell him something like "Molly and Olivia aren't BFFs any more...they never were. They're lesbians!" And he'd just look blank. Or ask what BFF stood for. Or ask why he should care. Hello, it wasn't like it was true! It was a joke!

Simon, the abnormally organized tattletale, devoid of humour.

Mom refilled my plate. With a ton of beans. Great. I dashed upstairs, changed my damp stained jeans for some clean ones, and went back down to finish dinner.

"I can't wait for Saturday." I finally said out loud, taking a forkful of spaghetti.

"How come?" Simon asked.

"That new movie about the spirit of the school is coming out."

"School spirit?" Dad said, looking up in interest. "Are you doing school spirit activites at school, Sammy? That's great."

"No, Dad, they're embarrassing." I said flatly. "And it's a movie about a ghost in a boarding school. I'm seeing it Saturday."

Dad lost interest, and finally said "I think it's a shame you're not more interested in real life science, Sammy. Fantasy is interesting, but I think the real things are stranger. You should give them a chance."

"Who says ghosts aren't real?" I demanded.

Mom spoke this time. "Sammy, that cannot be proven. We're scientists. We don't believe in ghosts."

"Just cause it can't be proven doesn't mean ghosts don't exist." I snapped. "Besides, this movie is made from eyewitnesses. Real kids were interviewed about the ghost. They all claimed they saw it."

Mom and Dad just chuckled, and then asked Simon what he was doing in school. Yeah, when I talk about my grades, they ignore me. But Simon's school life is just so fascinating.

"I'm staring my science project." Simon told them. "It's called How Fast Do We Grow? I'm going to study my growth for the next sixth months." And of course, this meant praise all around.

I rolled my eyes. "May I be excused?" I asked. "Roxanne's coming over to do math homework with me." Roxanne's my best friend. We're in sixth grade together and we are very competitive. We compete with everything, and we both love science fiction. In fact, she was coming to the new movie with me.

Finally, I went up to my room, opened the door...and gasped.

 **I know, that's pretty much how the first chapter went. However, this Sammy is not as dumb as the original Sammy, so things will change once Brent comes into the picture. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's keep going! Chapter 2! Thanks for reviewing, meangirl8.**

My homework was scattered on the floor. Gathered, I may not be the neatest girl in the world, but I never tossed my homework on the floor and left it scattered. Well, I didn't scatter it. And today, I knew I'd left it on my desk. And I know it wasn't on the floor when I went up to get changed.

Brutus, my cat, sat there in the midst of my homework. "Brutus, were you on my desk?" I demanded.

The orange cat looked up at me, then zoomed under my bed. Weird. The cat wasn't scared of anything. In fact, he freaked out most of the kids in the neighbourhood. He scratched everyone except me.

It looked like it was only the open window that had blown the papers off the desk. I went to close it, when I realized something.

Wait.

Since when was the window open? I'd left it closed. And I'm pretty sure it was closed when I changed my jeans.

"What's up?" I turned around. Roxanne was in my doorway. "Whatcha staring at, Sam?" Roxanne's the only person who calls me Sam, and the only one who can get away with it. Just like I'm the only one who can call her Roxy.

"Nothing, Roxy." I said. "Just wondering who opened this window. The wind scattered all my stuff."

Roxanne shrugged. "It was probably your mom. Who cares, anyway?"

"But it's been closed all day." I protested. "I was up here twenty minutes ago, and the window was closed then. I would have noticed if the wind was blowing in."

I manged to get Brutus out of my room after that. "I don't know why, but he seems scared of something in here. Weird, huh? It's almost scary to see a cat like Brutus be freaked out."

Roxanne shrugged. "You want to know what's really scary, Sam? Your brother. I passed him in the den on my way up, and he was tracing himself. On cardboard. Weirdo."

"It's part of his science project, I think." I told her. "About judging how fast the humourless tattletale scientifically known as Simon Jacobs grows."

Roxanne giggled. "Yeah, and you wanna know what else is scary? Your turtle speed at track practice today!"

I mentioned that me and Roxanne – we compete a lot. Track is the thing we're most competitive about, and today, she beat my time. I knew she was going to bring it up over and over until I beat her.

"You know why you won." I said, my tone clipped. "It was because I decided to cut you a break. I let you win."

Roxanne folded her arms. "Yeah, right, Sam, like I believe that. You're just a sad excuse for a track star."

"And you're a sad excuse for a friend if you say stuff like that." I retorted. "Besides that, it's true. I let you win...you know, so you'd be more confident for the school Olympics."

Roxanne's face was going pink, and then scarlet. A sure sign that she's getting angry. Roxanne gets mad so easily that we've broken friends tons of times. We always make up, though. I mean, sometimes she can be so mean I wonder why I ever hang out with her. But sometimes she's so funny and original, I couldn't imagine my life without a friend like her.

We were on the track team for the inter-school athletics, ie: what we call the mini-Olympics. Last year, we did the same, but we lost because I stumbled and didn't get up fast enough.

"You know you lost because you weren't as fast as me, Sammy." Roxanne snapped. Whoa, time to back off. She only calls me Sammy when she's mad – otherwise it's Sam. She doesn't like to be the same as everyone else. "And you better work hard to get better. If you end up being as klutzy as you were last year, I will kill you."

I sighed. "Can we get started on our math homework? You know, the reason you're here?"

"Wait, there was something else I wanted to talk about." Roxanne said. "Remember our English project?"

Ms Starkling, our teacher, paired everyone up for the term to do a project in something. I had loads of ideas, but Roxanne shot them all down, calling them babyish and stupid. She hadn't had any ideas at all, though. When I said that, she swore she'd come up with an awesome idea. And here it was.

"Why don't we do a report on true-to-life haunted houses?" she suggested. "I know a haunted house near the woods. We should study it and find out about the legends in it. It's a deserted place, too, so we could go in an investigate."

I stared at her. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Roxanne insisted. "I can find the ghosts and talk to them, and you can film us."

"But ghosts can't be caught on film!" I protested. "You know that. The ghosts we see in films are CGI versions. Real ghosts don't come up, same as vampires aren't supposed to."

Roxanne gave a sigh. "Sam, you're just being lazy. You want to talk to the ghosts." she accused. "You're just mad cause I already claimed that job, but it's my idea, so I get to choose who does what."

"I'm not!" I protested. I was being truthful when I said ghosts didn't come up. But still, a part of me was jealous of Roxanne getting to do the talking.

Just a little part, though.

"I bet we'll win an award when we find the ghost. Ms Starkling will think it's the best project ever! And-" Roxanne broke off as we heard a groan, and a light shone into my room.

An eerie, white light.

A ghost?

Roxanne and I backed away, as the strange light reached towards us.

 **I know, it's shorter, but I'm following the framework of the book. This was how the second chapter happened. Thanks for reading! Now, could you review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so the next chapter is too short to do on its own, so this will be the next three chapters together. So, we left off with the light...oh, and thanks for reviewing, meangirl8 and Lord Candycane (she was just called Roxanne only in the text – Sammy is the only one who's genderbended...kind of confusing, since I wrote an OC called Roxanne in a different Goosebumps fic).**

"Is it a..." Roxanne whispered.

"Ghost?" I finished.

And then a figure stepped into the room.

"Dad?! What the?'

Dad laughed, switching the bright light off. "That's the most real ghost you could probably find anywhere!"

Brutus yowled from outside the room, just as Mom came in. "You said you brought that light home to improve it, not to scare these kids." she scolded.

"Oh, come on, honey, it was only a joke." Dad wheedled. "You two thought it was funny, didn't you, girls?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah, Dad, burning our eyeballs is really funny."

"I knew what it was." Roxanne claimed. "I was just playing along." She giggled. "Sam, you looked so scared! It was an awesome trick, Mr Jacobs."

See what I mean? Sometimes I'm not sure why I hang around with her.

Simon came in, carrying Brutus. "The cat ruined my tracing for my science project!" he whined. "Now I have to start over!" He put Brutus down, and the cat promptly ran out again.

Dad explained that it was a Molecule Detector light. It would work in a way to make things that we couldn't see normally, visible. "Like microscopic instects."

Simon took the light. "I know what we can use it for." He turned it, full beam, on me. "We should start by looking for Sammy's brain!"

Everyone laughed. Yeah, what a great family. And what lovely friends I have.

"That's a good one!" Roxanne exclaimed. "Simon, I think that's the first joke you've ever told!"

"It wasn't a joke." Simon deadpanned, making everyone laugh again.

"Oh, get lost, all of you!" I snapped. At least my family left.

"What about our math homework, Sam?" Roxanne asked. "I thought we were going to do it together."

"Apparently I don't have a brain to do it with!" I quipped. "If you're staying, do both of ours."

"Oh, forget it." Roxanne snapped. "Where's your sense of humour, Sam? Even Simon has one now. Anyway, I have to do it. I'll go, okay? I just hope you're in a better mood tomorrow. Bye!"

I couldn't concentrate on my homework that night, so I didn't bother to do it. But that evening, as I crossed the room to my bed, I tripped.

"Ow! What the heck?"

I had tripped over...nothing.

Was it any wonder I didn't sleep well that night? I kept having dreams. Mostly about Roxanne teasing me for tripping. Or threatening me at the school Olympics. And as if that wasn't enough, I woke up to find my window open.

Okay, maybe I dreamed that part because I was super sleepy, and it was closed when I woke up. But if it wasn't...who opened it?

I woke up a little late that morning, mainly because Brutus didn't wake me up. He usually slept on my bed, but he was still spooked and wouldn't go into my room.

I got dressed as usual, went down and got my Coco Pops.

"Sammy, are you all right?" Mom asked. "You look awfully tired."

I shrugged. "I'm all right. Just got a bit cold last night. I didn't sleep that well."

Dad looked up. "Sammy, were you reading ghost stories again? That factors into your dreams. You'd probably sleep better if you were reading less science fiction and more science."

"Like the sun burning out." I muttered under my breath. "At least science fiction has some happy endings."

I'd only eaten a spoonful of cereal before I heard Simon yelling for me.

"SAMMY! I need your help!" I ignored him. "SAM-MY!"

"Sammy, go help your brother." Mom ordered.

"Yes, _sir."_ I muttered, trudging back upstairs to my brother's yells. "What's your problem? I was trying to have breakfast. I'm running late."

"Can you get Brutus off my bed?" Simon asked. Oh, so that's where he was.

"Leave him there." I advised.

"But I can't make my bed if he's there!"

I never bothered to make my bed. It just never occurred to me. "You really are abnormally organized." I said out loud.

"Sammy," whined Simon. "Don't call me that. I have to make my bed. Mom says."

I sighed. "If you can't move Brutus, I can't either. Make the bed over him or something."  
"But Sammy-"

"Save it!" I called over my shoulder as I went downstairs. Mom was giving me a weird look.

"Sammy, how did you finish your breakfast so fast?"

"Huh?" I stared at my bowl. All that was left was brown milk, the cocoa colouring it. But the cereal was gone!

"I had a spoonful before Simon called me!" I protested. "Mom, you saw me! Did someone throw it away? Dad? Mom?"

"Of course not!" Mom said. "I saw you take a spoonful, but I didn't see anything else."

"I haven't moved, either." Dad declared. "Are you sure a _ghost_ didn't eat it?" They both started laughing.

"Well, I didn't eat it!" I insisted. "And now I don't have time! I'm going to be late for school!" What had really happened? Someone must've thrown it out. But why would either of my parents do that?

And I couldn't concentrate that day, either. Ms Starkling kept calling me back to attention. And then, something else weird happened.

"Sammy, please come up to the whiteboard and solve this equation." Ms Starkling said. I frowned. It wasn't my turn today, and besides, I didn't know the answer. I hadn't done my math homework. I would've done it this morning, except I had no time for anything but a shower, getting dressed, and breakfast (which I didn't get since Simon interrupted me and someone else took).

I glanced at Roxanne, whose turn it was. She shrugged.

"Sammy, I'm losing patience with you." Ms Starkling warned. "Please. Now."

I reluctantly left my place and took the whiteboard marker. I stared blankly at the equation, the feeling of despair starting to overcome my body, squeezing my throat.

I uncapped the marker, lifted it...and that was when it happened. I couldn't help the gasp.

Something held my hand – the hand that held the marker. It moved down, making me write the numbers. Solving the equation.

But in a second, the equation was done. Correct. And the moment was over.

"Sammy, are you feeling all right?" Ms Starkling questioned. "You look worried."

"I...I'm fine." I said weakly. _I solved the equation myself._ I thought. _That feeling that something was solving it for me was just my overactive imagination._

Right?

 **I can't wait to get to the good stuff, when the story will become different! Please review now.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Right, let's get going. Thanks for reviewing, meangirl8, A-Plus Cassiopeia (well, the Sammy in the book said the same thing) and Lord Candycane.**

Roxanne tried to ask me what happened after school, but I didn't want to talk about it. We did schedule a time to go to the haunted house Saturday evening, but when she asked, I told her nothing.

"I'm pretty good at math." she said proudly. "Do you want my help?"

"Are you blind?" I snapped. "I got that equation right!"

Roxanne ignored me. "If you ask, I'd be happy to help you. I can tell you might need it."

"Read my lips, Roxy. I. Do. Not. Need. Help. I. Got. That. Equation. Perfect!"

"All right, all right." Roxanne sighed, shaking her head. "Sheesh, Sam. You don't have to freak out about it. I'll let you know more about the haunted house tonight. I'm going to try and find information this afternoon. Can I come over to tell you about it?"

"Yeah, sure." I said absentmindedly. "See you then."

Brutus was yowling when I got in. I went to the kitchen, and found him with a terrified look. His fur stood up on end. He was snarling, and staring at a pizza.

I stared too. As I looked, a slice floated up by itself. A bite disappeared from it. I took one more look, and closed my eyes. Then I turned around and walked away from the kitchen.

 _I didn't see that,_ I told myself. _I imagined it. That didn't happen. I've just been a little too involved in ghost stories and sci-fi recently._

When I turned around, the slice was gone. But there was a gap in the pizza pie. "What the-"

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

Mom was standing behind me.

"Oh, Mom, I'm glad you're home!" I said. "I think there's something wrong with my eyes! I-"

But Mom interrupted me. "I can see that someone's been eating this pizza. How many times do I have to tell you, Sammy? No snacks before dinner. You're twelve years old!"

"But, Mom-" I protested, "I haven't eaten it! Listen, this is serious, can I please see the-"

Mom interrupted again. "Sammy, stop joking around. This is serious. You have to stop stuffing yourself!"

"I don't, though!" I protested. "Why am I always the bad guy? Maybe Simon ate it or something – or maybe Brutus ate it. I don't know! All I know is that it wasn't me!"

"I don't want to hear it." Mom snapped. "Now go and clean up your room. You left it a mess this morning. You didn't make your bed and you left your pyjamas on the floor. Go and do it now."

I sighed. "All right, Mom, but can we talk about my eyes later tonight?"

"Samantha, I'm losing patience." Mom folded her arms. Okay, that meant it was time to back down. Mom knows how much I hate being called Samantha, and only uses it when she's really mad. I obediently climbed upstairs. Pushed the door to my room open.

And gasped.

My room! It was completely trashed! Cereal boxes, food containers, juice boxes...you name it, every food product was somewhere. My blanket was covered in peanut butter and jelly. Frosted Flakes coated the carpet. Under my covers, there was some of the spaghetti from last night, and half-eaten Chinese takeaway containers.

"What _happened?_ " I murmured. I checked the other rooms on this floor. Only mine was trashed.

"Samantha Jacobs, what did you just do?" Mom was in the doorway, and I'd never seen her this angry.

"M-me?" I stammered. "I only just came up here! The room was like this when I came up. I was just checking no one else's was like this."

"Well, then, who did it?" Mom demanded. "I didn't. Your father didn't. Simon didn't. So tell me, if it wasn't you, who could have done it?"

"I don't know!" I insisted. "Maybe someone broke in or something...but why would I trash my own room? It would just mean I had to clean it up! I don't understand why you'd think I had any reason to do it."

Mom paused, and for a moment, and then calmed down. "Sammy," she said, "Look at this reasonably. Who else could have done it? If you admit to this, just clean up, and that will be an end to it."

"But I didn't-" I stopped. There was no way Mom would believe me. "Fine." I sighed. "I'll clean up." I wouldn't admit to it, but Mom would think I had, by agreeing to clear my room completely.

Mom nodded calmly. "Just make sure you don't come down until you're done." And with that, I was alone.

"Here goes." I murmured, groaning. "This is going to take _days."_

"I'll help."

I froze. I'd never heard that voice, and when I looked around, no one was there.

"C'mon, Sammy, we better get started." the voice continued. It was a boy, about the same age as me.

 _What's going on?_ My mind screamed. _First I'm seeing things, then I'm hearing things!_

I tried to ignore the voice, but my eyes were starting to see things again. Before my eyes, the cereal boxes were lifting up, going into the trash can. I couldn't believe this was real, but I touched it.

Proof. Everything I was seeing appeared to be true, but it couldn't be.

Next, my bed was being stripped. "So where are the sheets, Sammy? If I get them, you can change the sheets while I clean the floor."

"Not real." I muttered to myself. "Not real. I'm hearing things."

"No, you're not." the voice said. "I know you can't see me, but you can see I'm here, can't you? Stop stressing."

I wondered if I should talk back. Even if it was just a voice in my head. "Well, if you're real, how do you know my name? And why can't I see you?"

"I came here last night." the voice explained. "I heard your mom calling you Sammy. Although...Roxanne calls you Sam, according to what I heard. Which do you prefer?"

"Sammy." I admitted quietly. "What are you?"

"What do you mean?" the boy sounded confused. He was starting to clean up the floor, though. "Sammy, I'll answer your questions in a minute, but c'mon, pitch in. I'm doing all the work."

The voice made a good point. I peeled the food-encrusted sheets off my bed and went to get some clean ones.

"So...what are you?" I asked. "Like...a ghost?"

 **We'll come back next chapter! As you've noticed, Sammy doesn't see things the same way the Sammy in the book does. She thinks she's seeing and hearing things, and she handled the trashed room scenario better. Hope you liked that! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Let's continue. Thanks for reviewing, Al Drin Hoshizora. Oh, and the song Sammy begins singing is "Loser Like Me", one of the original songs from _Glee._ I don't watch the show, but I heard the song on YouTube.**

The voice burst out laughing. "A ghost? Seriously? Do you really believe in ghosts?"

"Um, not really." I snapped. "But if I'm not hearing things, why can't I see you?"

"I'm invisible." the boy answered. "But I'll prove it. I'm standing behind you right now." I felt two warm hands on my shoulders, thumbs carefully working and massaging. "You're so tense. Relax."

"Can you explain a few more things?" I snapped.

"Sure." the person said. "Just...can I put the window up?"

"No, it's too cold." I snapped. That's when it occurred to me. "So you're the one who keeps putting the window up?"

"It's so hot in here." the boy said. "That's why." He had cleaned up the mess on the floor, and was now starting on the desk. I joined in.

"So I'm assuming what happened to my room is your fault too?"

"I'm sorry." the boy said softly. "I was just really hungry. Look, Sammy, the reason I'm here is...well, I'm on my own. And then I saw you, and, well...I really want you to be my girlfriend."

I stopped. "Girlfriend? I'm only twelve!"

"So am I." the boy said. "Thing is, I don't have any friends. I've been invisible, like, forever, and it's really hard to make friends. And my parents just dumped me here. All I know is that my name is Brent Green, and I'm twelve. I'm just like you – only invisible. And a boy, obviously."

I still wasn't completely buying that this conversation wasn't in my head. But there wasn't much I could do except talk back. Maybe I should see the school counsellor tomorrow.

At that moment, the door opened and Simon looked in. "Oh, wow." he muttered. "No wonder Mom got mad." He looked at me. "I heard another voice in here. Who else is here?"

"Uh...no one." I lied. "You must've heard me singing to myself." I wasn't going to tell Simon about someone when I wasn't even sure if that person was real. He wouldn't believe me, anyway.

Simon frowned. "Singing? You don't sing."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged. "What about this?" I began singing. " _Just go ahead and hate on me and-"_

"Stop it!" Simon cried. "You know I hate _Glee._ You're nuts, Sammy." He looked around the room. "I know Mom calmed down a bit from before, but she's still furious. How could you do this? And now Mom is convinced that you actually think you didn't do this and that you're crazy."

I shrugged. "So? What's she gonna do, take me to a psychiatrist? Well, good. Maybe I need one."

"I'll say." Simon muttered, going to sit in my desk chair.

"Wait, I haven't cleaned that-" I began, but it was too late.

Just as Simon tried to sit down, the chair drew out from under him.

"Ow!" Simon began whining. Even though I wasn't anywhere near the chair, he glared at me. "That was mean, Sammy. I'm telling!"

"But I didn't pull the chair out!" I argued. "I wasn't near enough! You must've missed it or something!" But Simon didn't listen. And the moment the door closed, I heard the truth.

"The look on his face!" I could hear Brent laughing. "That was great, wasn't it, Sammy?"

"No, it wasn't." I snapped. "Simon is a major tattletale, and no matter what I say, Mom and Dad will believe I did it. And you're probably not real, so I probably did do it and I just think you did it."

"I am real!" Brent protested. "Haven't we gone through this? I'm just invisible."

"Which is why I'm convinced I'm imagining all this." I said. "Invisible kids don't exist. Anyway, I'm going to keep cleaning up."

Just as I finished, there was a knock on my door, and Roxanne burst in. "Hey, Sam! I've got tons of info, and if you want to take me up on my offer to help you with math, I've brought my books."

"Forget the math." I said impatiently. "Tell me about the haunted house. Oh, wait – first, can I talk to you about something? But we need to keep it secret?"

Roxanne shrugged. "Sure."

"I think I'm going insane, Roxy." I whispered. "Mom thinks I am, too. My room was trashed earlier today. I didn't do it, but everyone thinks I did. And then I heard a voice, saying they were an invisible guy called Brent who wants me to be his girlfriend."

Roxanne looked around, and suddenly gave a squeal. "What do you mean, invisible? I can see him!"

"What? Where?"

"Right there!" Roxanne pointed.  
I looked. I couldn't see anything.

Roxanne burst out laughing. "Gotcha, Sam. You are so weird."

"Roxy, stop!" I scolded. "I'm serious! Something's seriously wrong. I'm seeing things, hearing voices. You're my friend, Roxy, you're supposed to support me. As opposed to making stupid jokes to make me think I'm crazier than I really am."

Roxanne shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, you wanna hear about the haunted house? It's called Hedge House, and it's supposed to be really spooky, even without the ghosts."

I gave a sigh. "You might as well do your project on me. The girl who went insane. Now that would be interesting."

Roxanne glared at me. "Listen!" She picked up one of the books she'd brought. "It talks about Hedge House, with the Stilson family that moved in around the nineteenth century. The thing was, it was called Hedge House, because there were dark, almost black hedges that grew high around it. Everyone said it was the will of the ghosts. Anyway, the ghost used to visit ten-year-old Jeffrey Stilson, every night since the family moved in. But his parents didn't believe him..." I tuned out, letting her ramble on about some ghost of a young man who had a secret about the house or whatever. "And weird things happen there, even now." Roxanne finished.

I paid attention again. "Like what?"

"Well, the doors open and close by themselves." At that moment, my door did the same thing. I blinked.

"And the books float off the bookshelves." Roxanne added. Three of my old _Animorphs_ books floated off the shelf and started being juggled. I tried to ignore it, looking straight ahead.

"Sam?" Roxanne nudged me. "Are you listening?"

"Go on." I said.

"I'm really serious about this." Roxanne said. "I don't think you're taking it seriously enough, but we need to get this done well. I want it to be the best. And you need to do a great film to prove the ghost really exists!"

My camcorder floated up and aimed itself at Roxanne, and I couldn't stop my giggles there.

"Sam, what is wrong with you?" Roxanne demanded. "Why are you laughing?"

"I told you something's wrong!" I insisted. "I...really think...I'm imagining things."

Roxanne scowled. "Stop it, Sam. I'm sick of your jokes." She paused. "Oh. Oh, I get it now."

"What?"  
"If you don't want to come to the haunted house with me, just tell me!" she said. "You don't need to make up dumb stories about seeing things." She headed for the door. "Look, Sam, I'm not stupid. I can tell when you're trying to get out of something. We'll talk later, okay?" And then she stormed out.

 **We'll pick up again next chapter. Hope you liked this one.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Let's see...oh, I know, let's deviate. Thanks for reviewing, Lord Candycane, .SP, The Duke of Biohazard, Al Drin Hoshizora, and A-Plus Cassiopeia.**

As soon as Roxanne slammed the door, I slumped down on my bed, only to feel something else. A cry happened as I did.

"Oh, I-" I began jumping up.

"Hey, don't apologize." Brent's voice said. "I just wasn't expecting that. You can sit on my lap if you want to."

"Get off my bed!" I snapped. "I know you're not real!"

"I am!" Brent insisted. "Look, if I wasn't real, would you be able to feel this?" I felt two arms wrapped around me. "And I've helped you before." he added. "Who did you think helped you with the equation in math class this morning?"

I stopped. He was making good points. But I could still be imagining all this. My dreams were pretty vivid. For all I knew, I could be hugging myself.

"Well, if you are real, get away from me!" I said, pulling away from the arms around me.

"Sorry." Brent's voice apologized. "I don't mean to move too fast. I know you don't really know me yet, but when you haven't been around girls before, things get awkward. And I like you, a lot. But I promise, I won't do anything like kiss you or stuff like that until you know me properly."

"If you were real, someone else could hear you, couldn't they?" I said pointedly. "Why do you only talk to me and do stuff so Roxanne can't see it, but I can?"

"I don't want anyone else to know I'm here." Brent admitted quietly. "I'm not going to harm anyone, Sammy. I just want to hang out with you." As he spoke, we both put the finishing touches, so my room was cleaner than it had been in a year.

I had plenty of time to hang out with him that night. Simon tattled on me again, saying I pulled the chair out from under him. I tried to tell Mom and Dad that he'd missed the chair and I wasn't near enough to pull it out, but they didn't believe me. I tried pointing out that I'd cleaned up my room without complaint, and I hadn't cleaned up the chair at the time, and I tried to warn Simon, but that didn't work, either. I was confined to my room for the whole night. Brent kept trying to get me to keep up a conversation with him, but eventually, he gave up.

"Sleep in the guest room if you have to stay here." I told him. "And make the bed every day, or Mom will blame me again!"

"I will." Brent promised. He paused. "I really am sorry that I got you into trouble, Sammy. I didn't mean to."

The next morning, things went more smoothly. I ate my cereal quickly, made my bed, checked the other rooms were OK, and went to school.

That's when things went downhill, in a major way. First, I have to say, why did I ever make friends with Roxanne? Her stupid trick had me thinking I was going nuts! First, she told everyone that I thought I had an invisible boy in my house, so everyone, including Ms Starkling, pretended to talk to invisible people, and then started laughing at me.

At lunchtime, I confronted her. "I'm sick of you making fun of me, Roxanne." I said quietly. I only called her that when I was serious. "Bye." It was the same thing. That 'bye' was our "break friends" goodbye. Maybe we'd make up later, maybe not. But best friends were supposed to be a bit more understanding. And they weren't supposed to make their friends the laughingstock of the sixth grade!

After I'd done that, I went to the library, and took out my lunch – a box of homemade sushi. I occassionally bought sushi packs at the store and I'd made a tuna roll. But I had to keep it on my lap so Ms Pinksy, killer librarian, wouldn't see it and go ballistic.

I'm not kidding. Ms Pinksy may look normal, but when she's angry at someone, they'll probably die. Or write a hundred book reports. One of the boys in my class got into trouble with her last year, and around now, he's still got another eighty book reports to write until he's done his time for his minor crime.

So I was just opening my box, when a piece of it floated up.

"Not again." I muttered. "This can't be real."

"Can't you share?" Brent's voice asked from the seat beside me. "You've got like eight pieces."

"Shhh!" I hissed. "The librarian will hear you if you talk at a normal volume! If you get me into trouble, I will never forgive you! What are you doing here?"

"I got lonely." Brent said, not listening to my warning. "And I missed you. Come on, we can still hang out at school, can't we?"

"Everyone thinks I'm crazy and is making fun of me!" I said angrily, my voice now rising in volume. "Why couldn't you have proved it to Roxanne? She wouldn't have told everyone if you'd actually talked to her. Heck, I still think I've gone crazy, because you _can't_ be real – this is like science fiction, and science fiction is...well, fiction! Look, either you prove it to everyone, or I have to put up with the rest of the world thinking I'm nutty-"

"Samantha!"

Uh-oh...

Ms Pinksy was standing over me, and she'd heard me talking. And then she saw the sushi.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I learn things better when I say them out loud." I muttered. "I was repeating a passage of this book I'd been reading about...um...mental disorders. And...I..I'm..." I had no alibi for the sushi

Ms Pinksy paused, her face thoughtful. "This is very unlike you, Sammy." she said softly. "Are you sure you're all right? If you have any trouble, you could always talk to the guidance counsellor."

I struggled to keep my cool. This was so embarrassing! I already thought I was crazy – no one else needed to know it. Already, a bunch of the other kids had heard the commotion and were staring. I knew I was blushing.

"Um," I said, "That's okay. I'm...er...just having a weird day. I completely forgot the rules – too much else to think about...I got teased a bit, fell out with one of my friends. Just normal stuff. Besides, I've got an inter-school relay race after class today, so I couldn't talk to her."

At least that made her go away...eventually. But people were still laughing at me. And although Brent kept quiet for the next few minutes, half my sushi was swiped.

 **Sorry I took so long! I lost inspiration. But I'm back, and working.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Track race, woohoo! Thanks for reviewing, Al Drin Hoshizora, A-Plus Cassiopeia (yeah, sorry) and I am a burglar (I can tell by your username).**

I should have been stoked and fired up for the race. It was sunny, but not too hot. No clouds in the picture-book blue sky. Most of the kids in the bleachers were from other schools.

"Hey, Sam!" Roxanne came bouncing up to me like I hadn't broken friends with her. "I have a great feeling about this race! We are totally going to win!" She paused and said "Unless you screw up."

I didn't smile. "As if I'd lose! If anyone screwed up, it would be you."

There were three of us in the race. Me, Roxanne, and Jed from another class, but in our grade – another great runner. He'd go first, then me, then Roxanne.

The kids from our school were still pointing and laughing at me. I shot a glare at Roxanne. "This is all your fault!" I hissed.

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Lighten _up_ , Sam! Everyone else gets the joke."

"It's not on them." I muttered.

Roxanne heard. "Shut up! Focus."

When the race began, Roxanne and I became united for a moment as Jed ran. "GO, JED! GO GO GO!"

He was faster than ever, feet pounding, face scarlet. Finally, he reached out. I was ready. I clutched at the baton and started running.  
"GO SAMMY!" I heard people from the bleachers yelling. The other runners were way behind. I sprinted, running harder. And suddenly, I felt a hand grab mine.

I looked. No one there.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at the invisible boy.

"I'm trying to help you win!" Brent's voice said, breathlessly. "Keep going!" He pulled on my hand, faster that I could run.

And I fell. The baton rolled away. I picked it up and kept running, but it was no use. Everyone had caught up.

"I'm sorry, Sammy!" Brent said quietly, so no one else would here. "I didn't realize that I was too fast. I didn't mean for you to fall over. I-"

"Shut. Up." I muttered dangerously.

Roxanne was especially furious that I lost, so I stalked off the field before she could give me an ear-bashing about it. I wasn't in the mood for anything, actually.

When I got home, Simon was busy with his project. "Sammy!" he exclaimed, looking up. "Can you measure me, please? I haven't measured myself since yesterday."

"Simon, you haven't grown since yesterday." I told him brusquely. "Wait a couple days at least."

"But my project sucks so far!"

I gave a sigh, and tried to be a little nicer. "Simon, people don't grow that fast." I told him kindly. "You need to do something else. Why not just do something about the effects of freezing? Or maybe Mom and Dad can help you think of another idea. I'm sorry, but I have a big issue too. Can you tell Mom I have something I need to talk to her about when she gets home?"

And with that, I sped up to my room. The window was up, again.

I sighed. "Okay, Brent, where are you?" I asked.

"I'm at your desk." Brent said, and to prove it, a pen from my desk was lifted up.

I sat down on my bed. "You've caused nothing but trouble for me all day. Either you have to go, or I need pills to stop hallucinating."

"You're not hallucinating!" Brent said, sounding irritated. The desk chair pushed back. "I'm as real as you are, Sammy." I felt an arm around my shoulders. "I'm not trying to make trouble for you. Why don't we go do something fun together? Play ball or something? Or we could go out for pizza. That sushi feels like it was hours ago."

"You go by yourself." I suggested, muttering under my breath "And don't come back."

"I don't want to go alone." Brent protested. "I've been trying to be nice to you. I just want you to be my girlfriend." He pulled me a tiny bit closer.

"First, I don't date right now." I snapped. "Second, it's not working out."

"Please, give me a chance." Brent said again. "Even if we're just friends for now. I really like you. I'm serious – we'll have fun -"

"Sammy! Dinner!" I heard Mom call.

I gave a sigh. "I better go. We'll talk when I get back."

"Don't worry, I won't leave the room." Brent said brightly.

I gave a sigh as I went downstairs and got to the table. "Mom, Dad? Can I ask you about something?" They looked up at me. Finally, I had their attention. "I feel like there's something wrong with me. I keep hearing and seeing things. I keep hearing this voice – a boy. My mind thinks he's an invisible kid in my room. I know it's impossible. I'm scared."

There wasn't much else to do but say it. Even if, by chance, Brent _was_ real, I just wanted him out of my room.

But did my wonderful parents listen?

Not a chance. They babbled on about their molecule detector and didn't believe me.

I felt a kick under the table. "Simon, stop it!" I glared.

"It wasn't me! It was the invisible kid!" Simon laughed.

"There is no invisible kid!" I snapped. "That's why I need someone to explain why I'm imagining it like it's real!"

I turned to my parents. "Please, please, Mom. I might be going crazy. I'm serious. I'd rather be diagnosed with schizophrenia then keep thinking there's an invisible kid in this house who won't talk to anyone except me."

I had such wonderful, lovely, understanding parents. They wouldn't listen to a word I said, passing it off as a crazy story. Okay, if I was making it up, I'd actually say that there _was_ an invisible kid in my room. I was seriously scared for my mental health, and no one would believe me!

I thought about it all through dinner. And by the time it got to dessert, I had an idea. Okay, so it was a weak idea, but at least it was something.

After dinner, I sneaked a couple of leftover chicken wings into a paper napkin and raced upstairs. "Brent?"

I looked around my bedroom. "I got you some of the food left over from dinner."

I felt a hand take the napkin. "Thanks!" Brent's voice said. There was a silence as he ate them. "You know, your mom is a really good cook."

Well, that gave me a good opening line. "She's okay." I said offhandedly. "Now Roxanne's dad – he cooks most of the time at her house and he really is a good cook. Like almost professional." I was exaggerating, but still, it wasn't that bad. "It kind of sucks that I had to break friends with her, so I can't go over there anymore." I added.

There was a pause.

"Hey, you know, I bet Roxanne's kind of depressed that I left her alone. I think she needs support way more than I do." I continued. "I think you guys would get on. Why don't you ask her out instead? She would love having someone supernatural in her house, too. Plus, her parents are so much more easygoing, so they'd never know you were there."

There was a pause. "I don't like Roxanne." Brent said after a moment. "You broke friends with her because she was mean to you. What makes you think I'd like her? You're so much nicer. And prettier, too."

I gave a sigh. "Fine. I didn't expect that to work, anyway. But that doesn't change the fact that you're ruining my life and you have to go."

Brent's voice became stubborn. "I'm not going, Sammy. I won't cause any more trouble for you, I swear. Just let me hang out with you and don't tell anyone about me. Please?"

"Listen," I said, "Even if I'm not crazy, everyone will think I am if I keep talking to an invisible guy who keeps following me around. Really. Please, please, _please_ leave."

"I know I screwed up." Brent admitted. "At the track race and at the library. But I won't do it again! I meant to help you with track – I didn't know you would trip. It was all mistakes, but I won't do any of that. I promise, I won't make any more mistakes!"

As he spoke, he opened my closet. One of my dresses floated out. "Hey, you would look _so_ adorable in this. Why don't you ever wear dresses?"

I glared at thin air. "I hate dresses. Mom makes me wear them on special occasions. Put that thing back in my-"

"Sammy, who are you talking to?"

I froze. Mom was standing in my doorway. The dress was on the floor. AndI had to come up with an explanation.

 **Well, what's Sammy's answer? You'll find out in the next chapter.**


End file.
